Small Packages
by Ally5
Summary: Lindsay thinks she is pregnant and wants to surprise Bobby but nothing goes right for her


Title: Small Packages  
  
Summary: As we were robbed of a Bobby/Lindsay moment when the pregnancy was announced, I've decided to write my own version.  
  
Disclaimer: I make no profit. The characters belong to DEK and ABC and The Practice  
  
*********************************  
  
Lindsay sat on the bed restlessly tapping her foot. She looked at her watch and recrossed her legs. She had told them that she'd only be gone for twenty minutes and it was already well past that time. She looked at her watch again and dashed to the bathroom. It was time. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and took a deep breath.  
  
"Lindsay?" Bobby's voice interrupted her, coming from the living room, and she shoved the test and box in the garbage without reading it.  
  
"Yes?" she asked, appearing from the bathroom.  
  
Bobby frowned when he saw her. "Where have you been? We have a depo in twenty minutes."  
  
"I was busy."  
  
"With what?"  
  
"Well I left some files here this morning and I was flicking through them, I got distracted."  
  
"Are you ready to go?"  
  
"Give me a minute." Lindsay disappeared back into the bathroom and closed the door firmly in his face.  
  
Bobby sat on their bed and waited for her.  
  
Lindsay looked in the garbage for the test and couldn't see it. Flustered she dumped the contents onto the floor and rummaged through it. The test was gone. Pushing the rubbish back in the bin, she gave up and opened the door.  
  
"Lets go." She announced breezily.  
  
Bobby looked at her quizzically and followed her out of the apartment.  
  
"Why didn't you just call, rather than driving to get me?" Lindsay asked him, annoyed.  
  
"Your cell phone was off."  
  
"You could have called our home number."  
  
"I was worried about you. You disappeared an hour ago, saying that you'd only be gone for twenty minutes."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Is everything okay?"  
  
"Everything's fine, Bobby" she replied innocently.  
  
"You're acting a little strangely."  
  
"It's this case. I was looking at the pictures of the little boy." Lindsay lied.  
  
He nodded understandingly, "You don't have to be on this case if you don't want to."  
  
"I want to, Bobby. But.they tortured him. It's sick."  
  
"I know." Bobby put his arm around her protectively, and Lindsay rested her head against his shoulder. If he knew what she was hiding, he would be doing more than suggesting she get off the case. He'd lock her up in their bedroom like Rapunzel. Except my hair's not long enough, she thought to herself. And it's not really blonde. She laughed, and Bobby glanced sideways at her. She swallowed the laughter.  
  
"What's so funny?" he asked eventually.  
  
"Nothing. I was just thinking of growing my hair again."  
  
"But you just had it cut," he protested.  
  
Lindsay shrugged, "It was just a thought."  
  
"You should grow it. With the money you spend on getting it cut, I'll be broke before the year is out," he gave her a pained expression.  
  
She returned his look with a dirty one of her own, "I earn my own money, remember?"  
  
He just laughed and tightened his grip around her waist.  
  
"So how's the Wallace case coming along?" she asked conversationally.  
  
"Fine. I hope that we win this one. I feel sorry for him."  
  
She gave a short laugh and this time he gave her more than a glance, "What?"  
  
"I don't know, Bobby. He killed his wife, and friend or not, he still did it. I don't really feel much sympathy for the guy. He shouldn't have done it."  
  
"Do you mean that?" his eyes pierced through her.  
  
She met and held his stare, "Yes." She was proud of herself for meeting the famed Bobby stare. It was feared by people everywhere and she had held it without blinking.  
  
He looked away as if hurt, "Doesn't friendship mean anything to you?"  
  
"Of course it does. And I have no problem with you representing him, but I don't like that you've become his PR officer, always running to defend him and proclaim his innocence."  
  
Bobby couldn't believe what he was hearing, "I'm not his PR officer and anyway, he's innocent, Lin-"  
  
"There you go again," she interrupted.  
  
"I like to think that my friends are not capable of killing their loved ones."  
  
"As long as it remains a hope, not an unfounded, unyielding belief."  
  
He shook his head and let out a surprised breath, "I didn't know that you felt this way."  
  
"You never asked."  
  
"Was it unreasonable for me to hope that you would feel the same way about the value of friendship?"  
  
Lindsay felt the smile touch her lips, "Of course not. I value my friends, but my friends don't kill people."  
  
"If you can call Helen a friend," he joked, deciding that the conversation was getting a little too heated.  
  
She hit him playfully, "Watch it, or you'll find yourself on the couch tonight," she warned.  
  
He laughed uneasily and they walked on.  
  
* * *  
  
Later that night.  
  
Bobby appeared from his office, "Ready to go?" he asked Lindsay.  
  
She had been sitting, fidgeting for hours and in that time had come up with four strategies of how to get to the bathroom before Bobby could, and without arousing any suspicion on his part. She was sure that the first would work, but the other three plans were for backup.  
  
She gazed at him with obvious relief, and not for the first time that day, he looked at her with a curious stare. He couldn't even begin to comprehend her behaviour and tried to wrap his testosterone filled, masculine mind around it. He shook his head, nope, he would just have to ask her. "Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
"I'm fine, why?" she answered casually. She stood up to put her files away, hoping that her actions would hide her nervousness. But the plan seemed doomed to fail as a file jammed in her briefcase and she spent a few frenzied seconds trying to shove it inside, all the while attempting to look unhurried. Finally the file gave in and with an incriminating tear it allowed itself to forced into the already crowded case. She looked up innocently, as if demolishing important files was an everyday occurrence and saw that Bobby hadn't noticed her cardboard wrestling match.  
  
He shook his head obliviously, "I don't know. You've been acting kinda strange all day."  
  
She stared at him as if he were the one acting strangely, and she continued to stare until he was sure that a deadly disease must be spreading along his face or that a spider was sitting on his forehead. He was even about to lift his hand to check when she told him in a strangled voice, "I'm fine. God, get off my back!"  
  
He was startled by her sudden change in attitude and fell into a troubled silence. He decided that it must be one of the cases that she had. It was the only explanation.  
  
"I was going to talk to you about the Myers case. You've already got a lot of cases, maybe Eugene should take over," He suggested gently.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I think Eugene should take over the Myers case," he said more confidently.  
  
"Why?" she challenged him.  
  
"Lindsay, its obviously not a nice case to be trying."  
  
"They never are, Bobby."  
  
"But this one is especially bad. And after the nun case-"  
  
"That was over a year ago! This is no worse than half the other cases we try."  
  
"Whether it was a year ago or a week ago, I don't think you should be giving yourself such exposure to all the loonies out there."  
  
She let out a breath and counted to ten, "When are you going to let me be myself again, instead of some child to wrap in cotton wool? Do you want to tie my shoelaces everyday, too? Just in case I trip and fall down the stairs? What about not letting me eat butter and taking away my icecream, just in case I have a heart attack? You're being ridiculous, Bobby."  
  
Her hands had waved around expressively and Bobby knew that the shovel he was carrying was desperate to dig him a hole to hop into. "I'm just trying to protect-"  
  
"Well you're smothering me, Bobby. I can handle this case." Without a word she hefted her weighty briefcase and wobbled with it out the door, trying desperately to appear in control. She looked at the handle; it was stretching alarmingly. Bobby sighed once again and promising himself that he would raise the issue later, he followed her out and locked the door. He watched her struggling with the case and took it from her, whistling at its weight.  
  
"What the hell do you have in here?"  
  
"Files," she said shortly.  
  
"What's in them.the crime scenes?"  
  
Lindsay tried not to smile. She decided that she shouldn't blame Bobby for his protectiveness of her. She actually kind of liked it. Looking him earnestly in the eye she confessed, "I don't like this case, Bobby." His mouth began to form more overly protective words, but she stopped him with her hand, "But I still want to do it." She gave him a pointed look.  
  
He shrugged, gave a small smile, and gave in, "Okay."  
  
Lindsay tapped her foot as they waited for the elevator. She could almost see the little dipstick with their future painted on it. Just one little stick. A thrill ran down her spine. Her foot stopped tapping and she leaned against Bobby, who swayed alarmingly with the weight of her briefcase attempting to drag him down. He stabilised his balance and relaxed. These moments were special to him; it was the only time that she really let him support her fully. He closed his eyes.  
  
Lindsay's eyes remained open. They were narrowed as she practiced the words. Her first plan was to mention how tired she was and how she desperately needed a shower. If that failed, her backup plan was to pretend to be sick and stay in the bathroom until she could find the damn test and read the result. But that plan could backfire and he might stop her from working for the next few days. It was a risk she was willing to take. She nodded to herself, and with the ding of the elevator stepped away from Bobby, leaving him to sort out his balance issues once again.  
  
They arrived home. Bobby hefted her briefcase on to the coffee table and went straight to the kitchen to prepare dinner. They alternated nights to cook and he embraced the opportunity to express his culinary talents. With a flurry of pots and pans, he was soon lost in the bliss of domestication and Lindsay marvelled over how easy it would be to disappear for 10 minutes. She shut the door of the bathroom and surveyed the problem. She had always met challenges head on, and this would be no different. She dumped the contents of the bin on the floor again and sieved through them more carefully and gingerly. She picked up scraps that should have been incinerated at a hazardous waste dump about three months ago. Wrinkling her nose she decided that the test was not there. Placing the contents back into the bin and promising herself that she would spend an hour scrubbing her hands with disinfectant, she surveyed the room again. She examined the corner where the bin had sat and found no sign of the test. She grabbed the pregnancy test packaging that had been sitting on the bench since she had rescued it earlier, and put it in the cupboard - a place that Bobby would never see it. Shaking her head, she left the bathroom and listened to Bobby who was whistling merrily away in the kitchen. She closed the door again and leaned against the wall. It had to be here somewhere. She heard Bobby's whistling steps move closer to their bedroom and on impulse she flushed the toilet and began to wash her hands. Bobby's steps stopped outside and she emerged as calmly as she could, raising her eyebrows questioningly, "Shouldn't you be cooking?"  
  
"I was going to ask you whether you wanted veal or chicken?" he asked with eyebrows furled as though he were stumped by the choice.  
  
Lindsay pretended to give it serious thought, "Chicken," she said decisively.  
  
He nodded seriously, as though she had instilled inspiration upon him, and retraced his steps back to the kitchen.  
  
Lindsay watched him go, loving every inch of him. He's my husband, she told herself giddily and gave up on the cause in the bathroom. She'd buy a new test tomorrow. In fact, she'd buy three, just in case they tried their magic disappearing trick again. With resolution she wandered back out to the kitchen so that she could watch her husband cook her dinner. She smiled: this is what married life should be like.  
  
She found him still in a blissful, utensil-dominated trance and from behind she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his back. He pretended to protest, "I'm trying to cook here!" But she remained attached like lichen to its rock. He sighed and turned around to face her. She had won. They kissed hungrily, the crackling of the cooking chicken and stir- fry providing a suitable background noise. It wasn't only the chicken that was sizzling. Lindsay began to urge him away from the kitchen and he willingly followed, until he realised that the dinner would be ruined. "But I thought you wanted chicken!" he complained, genuinely crestfallen.  
  
She leaned closer and purred in his ear, "I want more than chicken."  
  
That was all he needed. In a hurry, Bobby switched off the stove. Dinner could wait. It was time for dessert. They gave up in trying to make it to the bedroom and devoured each other hungrily on the spot. Neither of them could understand what had come over the other, but accepted it without question. They lay there afterwards, both with satisfied smiles on their faces. Bobby turned to her, his smile widening, "Maybe I should let you try more cases like the Myers case."  
  
She shook her head, suddenly serious, "No. I don't think I could handle more than one of those a year."  
  
His smile fell, "Then why are you taking it?"  
  
"Because I need to know that I can do it, Bobby," she told him honestly.  
  
He nodded. The mood was broken and Lindsay got to her feet.  
  
"I'm having a shower," she announced.  
  
It was only as she was stepping into the steamy shower that she realised that this would provide one last opportunity to search for the missing test. She showered quickly, and leaving it running, she dried herself and frantically searched through cupboards and any space large enough to hide it. When her search was once again unsuccessful, she kicked the bin with frustration and watched as the contents were once again splayed over the floor. She was torn between kicking herself and laughing, and in an uncoordinated fashion she did both. With a sigh she left the mess on the floor, dressed in her pyjamas and went to find Bobby.  
  
* * *  
  
It was hours later that Bobby saw the mess in the bathroom. He had a moment of confusion, waiting for Lindsay to arrive and explain why there were tissues and god knows what scattered over the floor. When she didn't arrive, he got down on his hands and knees, and with as much disdain as Lindsay, cleaned it up. He would never tell her that her aim to domesticate him had all but been reached. He wouldn't dare let her reign triumphant over that one. When he was done he surveyed the bathroom, reaching for the last obstinate pieces of rubbish and a pair of his shoes that had sat there since he had last been jogging. Nodding his approval, he left. Lindsay appeared from the living room and tiredly slipped into bed. He put his shoes down and slid in next to her, silently switching off the light. It had been a turbulent day. She curled up next to him, her rock, and fell into a fast and happy sleep. Bobby remained awake, staring at the small pale coloured stick in his hands. He vaguely realised that this was an important discovery and congratulated himself on finding it. Lindsay was right, housework was rewarding. He placed it in the top drawer of his bedside table and not even daring to think about its significance, he too fell into a happy sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby woke a few hours later and carefully separated himself from Lindsay. She always slept soundly and he wasn't all that worried about waking her. He padded silently towards the bathroom and decided to perform a search of his own. He quickly surveyed all visible surfaces and when these all came up empty, he did something he had never done before.he opened the cupboard and peered inside. He had to vary his view to see around the assorted make up and moisturiser bottles, but in the back he saw the faint outline of the treasure. He felt like planting a flag and shouting "Eureka!" but instead he reached carefully through the forest of potentially noisy bottles and grasped the package. It was his. But on the journey back, the edge of the box toppled one of the largest bottles, the Everest of the cosmetic bottle world and caused a domino effect. The noise was catastrophic. He heard the sounds of Lindsay waking and had a quick mental argument with himself. Immediately deciding on pleading ignorance and innocence, he replaced the box, attempted to right all the bottles and closed the cupboard. He returned to their bedroom and Lindsay looked at him through squinted eyes, "What were you doing?"  
  
He gave her a teasing look and said in a kid voice, "A number one, Mom."  
  
She laughed sleepily, "That's more information than I wanted. It sounded as though you were remodelling the bathroom." She rolled over and fell back to sleep. Relieved, Bobby slid in next to her and planned his strategy. He just needed 5 minutes. How hard would it be?  
  
* * *  
  
They were in the bathroom hours later, he was brushing his teeth and she was applying her makeup. Her relationship with the cupboard reminded Bobby of an angry lioness guarding her cubs. He smiled to herself. If only she knew that he knew. Of course he didn't know the result, but he wasn't sure whether she did either. Her furtive glances around the bathroom gave him cause to believe that she had lost the test before she had read the results. He had found it in the most unlikely of places. He smiled again, his triumph was lost on Lindsay, who was still examining the bathroom as though it held the answer to the meaning of life. She sighed and closed the cupboard door. Bobby realised that his opportunity was near, but Lindsay stubbornly remained in the bathroom, talking to him about a case and when he could no longer pretend to brush his now sore teeth and gums, he rinsed and they left together.  
  
Lindsay decided that she would have to keep Bobby busy. He was acting strangely this morning and she had a horrible feeling that the noise the night before had come from the bathroom cupboard. But he wasn't asking subtle questions about pregnancy tests and morning sickness, so she couldn't be sure. Her only option was to keep him away from the bathroom as much as possible.  
  
They ate breakfast and were about to leave for the office, Lindsay relieved, Bobby unhappy, when the phone jangled noisily. Lindsay sighed and reached for it and her face dropped.  
  
"Hi, Mom."  
  
Bobby's insides bungee jumped ecstatically around his body. He decided that he'd have to kiss Mrs. Dole the next time he saw her and with the little stick in his pocket and a few minutes to spare, he dashed to the bathroom, making excuses about retrieving a file he had left in their bedroom. Lindsay watched him go despondently. This time, his recovery of the package was more careful. It was a triumphant Bobby that removed it from the cupboard. He analysed the results carefully and after replacing the box, he opened the bathroom door. Lindsay was still chatting and he grabbed a file that sat on his bedside table. He returned calmly and sat down, pretending to read the file. Inside, his nerves were celebrating like fireworks, causing bizarre muscle twitches as he attempted to contain his excitement. Finally, with a sigh, Lindsay hung up and they left for work.  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby decided that Lindsay didn't know the result. He was almost certain. He also knew that she would probably try to sneak home and perform another test. He thought about it all the way to the office and on arrival, he called Rebecca into his office.  
  
"What's up?" she asked.  
  
"I have a favour to ask."  
  
She nodded obligingly, "What is it?"  
  
"I want to surprise Lindsay with something tonight and I need someone to keep her busy all day. She is not allowed to go home - not under any circumstances."  
  
Rebecca smiled, how romantic, she thought to herself. She never knew Bobby had it in him. "I'm in court all day."  
  
"Perfect."  
  
"But Bobby, what am I supposed to say? 'Hey, Lindsay, why don't we have a day in court together?' These are easy cases, I don't need help."  
  
"Pretend that you do."  
  
"I'll try, but don't blame me if she comes back to the office."  
  
"Just do the best you can. Maybe you could offer to help her on the Myers case? That one will keep you busy for a while."  
  
"I'll try." She gave him a curious look. "Are you going to tell me what the surprise is?"  
  
"If it goes well, I'll tell you tomorrow."  
  
"Deal." With a last smile, she left his office. Bobby watched through the blinds as she approached Lindsay and watched the frowns and shaking of the head. He felt his heart lurch; his plans were failing at the first step. Finally he saw Lindsay sigh and she stood, collecting her things. They left together, Rebecca flashed a "you owe me" look at Bobby through the blinds as they left and he smiled his thanks.  
  
* * *  
  
Lindsay walked with Rebecca to the courthouse, wondering how she could leave without sounding rude. This case sounded pathetically easy, one that Rebecca could perform with her eyes closed, but Rebecca had been insistent that she needed Lindsay's help. They were both feeling resentful. Rebecca felt like an idiot and Lindsay wished that she had been more assertive about staying at the office.  
  
The PC hearing began and Lindsay watched as Rebecca confidently began her case. There was some resistance from one of the witnesses and Bec expertly wore him down. When the PC hearing had finished, they walked towards the Richard Bay's office. Rebecca had a meeting with him, but on the way, Lindsay saw Helen in one of the courtrooms and turned to Rebecca.  
  
"I'll wait in here for you. Richard Bay doesn't like me anyway, so I wouldn't be very useful."  
  
"He doesn't like any of us." Rebecca replied with a short laugh.  
  
"Well, in any case, I haven't seen Helen in a while."  
  
"Okay. I'll see you back here."  
  
"Great," with a flash of a smile, Lindsay walked quietly into the courtroom. It was an arraignment and Helen was in the middle of a heated argument with the defense attorney on the case. Lindsay took a seat and watched Judge Kittleson sort out the bickering. With a final smack of her gavel, she made her ruling and waited for the next criminal to be presented. It was a depressing, never-ending process. Helen saw Lindsay and sat next to her.  
  
"Hey! I haven't seen you in a while," she whispered.  
  
Lindsay smiled broadly, "I know. We have to do lunch sometime."  
  
"Yeah-" she was interrupted by Kittleson's sarcastic voice.  
  
"Ladies, I'm sorry to interrupt the important conversation."  
  
They looked up guiltily.  
  
"Ms. Dole. You look like you need a new case."  
  
"Oh no, Your Honor! I have plenty."  
  
"Then why are you in here talking?"  
  
"Important settlements to discuss, Your Honor."  
  
"I see," Kittleson remarked dryly. "Well here's one more. Miss Leighton, here's your new lawyer."  
  
Lindsay looked at the odd looking woman who stood in handcuffs. For a description, slutty was an understatement. Her hair was teased until it resembled a pile of dead, stringy weeds on her head. The colour was different from, but not unlike blonde and Lindsay looked at her new client with a sense of horrified wonder. She had never seen anything like it. The biggest shock came when the woman introduced herself to Lindsay. Nothing could have surprised Lindsay more.  
  
"Hi, thanks for taking my case." The voice could only be described as masculine.  
  
"Uh.no problem. Listen, uh.Mr.Miss.Leighton?"  
  
"Tiffany Leighton, its nice to meet you." Her gruff voice once again startled Lindsay.  
  
"You too. Tiffany, I have to see a colleague of mine and then I'll see you in your cell. Don't talk to anyone, understand?"  
  
"Sure.Ms. Dole?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You look much too wholesome to be a defense lawyer."  
  
Lindsay laughed uneasily and watched the woman, or man, leave. She couldn't believe her luck, or bad luck, depending on how you looked at it.  
  
She rushed to Bay's office and breathlessly told Rebecca what had happened. Rebecca seemed remarkably pleased with the turn of events and waved Lindsay away.  
  
"But you said that you needed help?" Lindsay asked quizzically.  
  
"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. Go and rescue your new client."  
  
"Okay. If you're sure?"  
  
"Go!"  
  
Lindsay left the office and proceeded to the cells where Miss Tiffany Leighton was being held. The officer that checked her ID just raised his eyebrows and whistled under his breath when Lindsay told him who her client was. His expression said more than words could and she agreed with the sentiment. Even prepared for the sight of her client, Lindsay's breath caught in her throat and she was wondering how to raise the delicate issue of gender, when Tiffany herself cleared up the confusion.  
  
"Ms. Dole, let me be frank with you. I'm not a woman."  
  
Lindsay nodded as though this was an enormous surprise to her and asked tentatively, "But your name.?"  
  
"Its my legal name. I changed it three years ago. People prefer for me to have a feminine name when they see me in these clothes. I guess it makes the surprise easier to bear." Tiffany was being remarkably sincere and Lindsay found herself liking this most unlikely of criminals.  
  
"What was your name before?" Lindsay asked curiously.  
  
"Dwight Leighton."  
  
"Not a womanly name," Lindsay remarked.  
  
The sultry lips parted into a smile, "Exactly! We're on the same wavelength. That's what I thought. And Tiffany sounded as womanly as I could get. Actually, when I was filling out the form, the lady next to me suggested it. She said that Tiffany was her favourite name. Her granddaughter was called Tiffany. It was fate."  
  
"It's a lovely name." Lindsay smiled; she couldn't wait to tell Bobby about this. In fact she could even see herself telling their grandchildren one day. "You've been arrested for." Lindsay checked the file, "Solicitation?"  
  
"Its a huge mistake!" Tiffany protested as delicately as a man dressed as a woman could.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I was walking along and this man stopped me. He said that I looked like his type of woman."  
  
Lindsay raised her eyebrows, "Really?"  
  
"Don't worry honey, I was surprised too."  
  
Lindsay smiled, "And.?"  
  
"Well, I chatted him up a little. He wasn't fussed about gender. You see, he was a." he leaned forward confidentially and whispered, ".a bisexual." Tiffany acted somehow embarrassed at this revelation.  
  
"I see." Lindsay felt laughter rising and stared at the page in front of her to compose herself. "So.then what happened?"  
  
"Well he asked me if I wanted.well, some sex."  
  
"And you said yes."  
  
"Of course I did, I'm not stupid. Life can get pretty lonely sometimes, Ms. Dole."  
  
"Please, call me Lindsay."  
  
"Lindsay. That's a pretty name."  
  
"Thank you. So did you go to a motel?"  
  
"His apartment was right there and we went up."  
  
"So when did money change hands?"  
  
"Well, we had." She trailed off, blushing.  
  
"Sex." Lindsay completed.  
  
"Right. Then he told me that he was a male prostitute and I was horrified. I told him that I was only going to pay him because I enjoyed it. I never wanted to see him again!"  
  
Lindsay wrote this down.  
  
"And then the police descended on us out of nowhere and that was the end of it. They arrested me and I spent the night here."  
  
"What happened to the other guy?"  
  
"He lied!" She exclaimed, as though she couldn't believe that someone could do such a thing. "He told them that I was a frequent customer and then somehow got himself immunity."  
  
"Okay." Lindsay closed her notepad shut with a snap. "Tiffany, I'm afraid you don't have much of a case. You were caught with a known prostitute and you were also seen paying him. I think you should plead guilty."  
  
"I know." She nodded sadly.  
  
"Will a record affect your job?"  
  
"I work at home. I'm not considered to be very employable."  
  
"Oh.what do you do?"  
  
"I'm a writer."  
  
"Really?" Lindsay asked surprised.  
  
"You're surprised." She smiled secretively. "I write for a magazine."  
  
Lindsay began to understand what he was saying, "A.uh.male magazine?"  
  
She smiled again, nodding, "Something along those lines."  
  
"Okay. So it won't matter if you get a conviction?"  
  
"No, it will probably increase sales. Readers want the writers to be just like them."  
  
"That's fine then. I'll see what I can do."  
  
"Thanks Lindsay. You have been a doll."  
  
"Can you post bail?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Well here's my card. And I've got your details. I'll talk to you soon."  
  
Lindsay passed the officer who was still shaking his head in the same horrified amazement that Lindsay had expressed earlier. "He's posting bail." She told him conversationally.  
  
He grimaced, "He?"  
  
"Well, she. Tiffany Leighton."  
  
He grimaced again and Lindsay left.  
  
She hunted down the DA on the case, eyeing her watch, aghast at the time. It was almost 4 pm. "David?" she called, seeing the head of the DA bob down the hallway.  
  
He turned and frowned when he saw her, "Lindsay."  
  
"You don't look pleased to see me," she teased.  
  
"Because I know why you're here. I'm sorry Kittleson dumped this one on you."  
  
"No problem. I had fun talking to her."  
  
"Who? Kittleson?"  
  
"No, Tiffany Leighton."  
  
"Oh." He replied in a strangled voice.  
  
"She's harmless, David."  
  
"Some of the most vicious serial killers appear to be harmless, Lindsay."  
  
"But she had sex with a prostitute.once. She even claims that she was tricked into it."  
  
"Stop calling her she. Tiffany is a man."  
  
"But she wishes to be called she, so I will. Come on, show me that you're a modern man."  
  
He sighed and peered around him as though he were afraid that people would hear him, "Two months suspended sentence. $1000 fine. Deal?"  
  
"I think that should be okay. I'll call you."  
  
He walked away and Lindsay rushed back to tell Tiffany. The deal was agreed upon and as she left, another curious looking individual arrived. Lindsay stopped and waited for the inevitable sentence to follow, "I'm here to post bail for Tiffany Leighton."  
  
This time the officer swallowed his comments and resignedly pulled out the forms indicating for the man to fill them out.  
  
Lindsay smiled and hurried out. She hailed a cab to take her back to the office. Rebecca had just arrived and smiled with relief when she saw Lindsay.  
  
"I wasn't sure whether you'd be coming back here or not." Rebecca commented.  
  
"Why wouldn't I?" Lindsay asked.  
  
"I don't know. It's been a long day."  
  
"I'm going now. Is Bobby in?"  
  
"No. He's meeting with a client."  
  
"Well tell him that I've gone home, okay?"  
  
Rebecca agreed and pushed her out the door.  
  
* * *  
  
"Thanks Bec.Okay.I know, I owe you.how about a holiday?.no, to a destination of your choice.yeah we just want to get rid of you for a week or two to. We're sick of the endless snooping.thanks again. See you tomorrow."  
  
Bobby hung up the phone and relaxed on the couch. His work was done and he was aching for Lindsay to get home. According to Rebecca she had just left, which would mean that she'd be home in fifteen minutes. He couldn't wait  
  
* * *  
  
Lindsay stopped at the shopping centre and weaved through throngs of people to get to the chemist. She sped down the aisle until she came to the pregnancy tests and chose three at random. Nothing would be left to chance.  
  
She was soon in the car and on her way home. She had asked Rebecca to call her when Bobby reached the office and that should give her at least half an hour to perform the test. She grabbed the bag and within moments was throwing the door open and dashing through the apartment. She ran straight past Bobby, who was watching her innocently from his position on the couch. She noticed too late, stopped, looked back and guiltily avoided his eyes.  
  
"Where's the fire?" He asked, enjoying the moment.  
  
"Uh.I really need to use the bathroom."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Bobby when a girl needs to go, she needs to go." Lindsay replied impatiently.  
  
"Can it wait?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"What's in the bag?"  
  
She looked at the bag she was holding as if wondering how it got there, "Food."  
  
Bobby looked even more amused, "What sort of food?"  
  
"Chocolate." Lindsay knew that she was digging herself deeper and deeper into her little hole.  
  
"Can I have some?" he smirked.  
  
"No, it's for me."  
  
Bobby pretended to be disappointed, "Oh. Were you going to eat it in the bathroom?"  
  
"No, I was going to put it in the kitchen." She headed decisively in that direction, hearing Bobby getting off the couch and following her. Her frustration was rising. He obviously had some idea of what was going on.  
  
She put the package in the fridge and turned to face him. He was grinning widely, "Don't you need to use the bathroom?" he asked infuriatingly.  
  
"Umm.yeah."  
  
He followed her into the bedroom.  
  
"Are you going to watch me pee, Bobby?"  
  
He put his hands up, "No. Of course not. I just wanted to tell you to be careful."  
  
"Be careful? Why?"  
  
"Well it might hurt the baby," his voice was full of mock concern.  
  
She was startled. How could he know when she didn't?  
  
"Is there a baby?" she asked slowly.  
  
"Well, I've never been much good at reading the back of pregnancy tests, I haven't had much practice, you see, but I spent a while making sure."  
  
"But how.where.I looked for that damn thing everywhere!"  
  
"It was in my shoe."  
  
"Your shoe?!" she cried. She hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. Those shoes had been sitting there for days.  
  
Bobby couldn't wipe the smile off his face and was enjoying her shock. The night before as he removed his shoes from the bathroom, he had removed the pair of socks that were tucked in the shoes and sitting neatly in them, like a baby in a blanket was the incriminating evidence. "I wanted to be the first husband ever to inform his wife that she is pregnant. It's a great advance for the modern, family man, don't you think?"  
  
Lindsay finally smiled and hugged him ecstatically. "I can't believe it!"  
  
They kissed happily. When they at last broke for air, Bobby laughed.  
  
"What?" Lindsay asked.  
  
He laughed again, "Don't forget to take those pregnancy tests out of the fridge. Someone might get a nasty shock when they next go looking for chocolate."  
  
*********************************  
  
The end 


End file.
